Prologue
The Opera Populaire lay shambled, the bright orange flames seemed to take over the night sky. The stars were engulfed in this swirling inferno and all that could be heard were the sounds of the gala's guest screaming helplessly into the darkness.
People ran in every direction; some were trampled in all the chaos. Cries of terror, anguish and confusion rose into the cool night air. The last thing she saw was Him...standing there, on the steps of what was left of His opera house. Then, her world went black.
Chapter 1: Remember, Remember the 5th of November...
"Christine! My word, child...stop flitting about and come here this instant!"
Madame Daae was an exquisitely proper woman. Always dressed to the nines whilst everyone around seemed nothing more than 6's or 7's. She tapped her heeled shoe lightly against the cobblestones as a little girl, not more than 8, came running up to her.
"I'm sorry, Mama...I was looking at the flowers on Madame Bijou's cart on the corner. I found a perfect flower for you, Mama! Come see, come see!"
The little girls' big, chocolate-brown eyes brightened as she tugged her mothers' hand towards the direction she had come. She skipped along, her mother following in tow, until they stopped in front of a little wooden cart. A small banner-like sign was draped across the top. Underneath it stood a portly woman with red, rosy cheeks and a tight silvery bun at the base of her neck. She was arranging large baskets of roses, in all shades of the rainbow, from the deepest red to lightest violet. Christine pointed at one of the deep red blooms.
"Mama, mama, look! That one there! I want to get that one for you!"
Her eyes brightened more as her mother smiled at the kind gesture. The round woman turned around, smiling a dazzling smile.
"Madame Daae, what a pleasure it is to see you again!" She crowed as she continued with her flowers.
Christine, meanwhile, was desperately trying to reach into the basket and grab a bloom to give to her mother. She was standing on her tiptoes, when suddenly she heard a noise.
She froze there, mid-movement, and listened hard.
'What was that?' she thought to herself. She looked up at her mother, who now was laughing and joking with Madame Bijou. A sly grin crept over her small features.
'She'll never know I'm gone...I'll only be gone for a moment...' she thought.
She looked up and quietly moved away from her mother's side, tip-toeing away silently and then bursting into a run when she became far enough out of sight. She ran and followed the noise, which was getting louder now as she came closer. She stopped abruptly when she heard the noise echo and then silence again. She was standing in front of the Opera Populaire. She tilted her head to the side, an incredulous look taking over her face. She took a deep breath and started up the grand stone staircase. She pushed the heavy oak door open with all her strength and lost her balance, falling forward. She braced herself for the pain, but felt nothing. She opened her eyes wide, looking at the silhouette of black in front of her face. She looked up and saw a hooded figure there, holding her arm. The figure placed her up onto her feet, making sure she could hold her balance. Frightened, and a bit curious, Christine looked at the figure.
"Thank you for catching me...I am very clumsy sometimes," she said, blushing furiously.
The figure nodded and from what she could see, smiled. He cleared his throat.
"You're welcome, little one. My pleasure," he said in a boyish voice.
She looked stunned...This...person, this...boy...was so tall. But his voice made him sound no older than twelve! 'Who is this person?' she thought as he turned to walk away.
"Wait!," she cried out after him. "What is your name, sir, so I may thank you properly?"
He stopped, turning slightly back towards her. His face was still cloaked in black.
"You may call me...Erik."